


A collection of Short Stories

by WillZel



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Original Character(s), Original work - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-16
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-08-24 12:29:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16640117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WillZel/pseuds/WillZel
Summary: Twice a month I will publish a new short story to this collection. They will range from fantasy to mystery and alot of romance in between.If you enjoy my work please follow me on Twitter or tumbler for more frequent updates on progress.Twitter: @Wicked_Willow_Tumblr: thatmadwomaninthelibraryEnoy





	1. A Reunion

**Author's Note:**

> This first short story is one of my best friends favorites. This is for you Z.  
> Two friends meet again after a long time apart. How will their Reunion pan out??

A Reunion

She stood, waiting, the deep midnight blue of her gown in stark contrast to the weary grey of the station. Eric was supposed to be here by now, she thought. His train was delayed. She hadn’t seen him in over a year.

Her heart beating, so loudly in her ears that she almost missed the deep roar the train coming. She couldn’t see it yet but even still she peered into the tunnel, only to hear the screatch of breaks. It was the other train. The disappointment was a bitter taste in her mouth.

Of all the days for the trusty train system to have a problem it was the day her Eric, her oldest friend, was to return from America. Even his flight had been redirected to a different airport. It was as if fate herself was trying to keep them apart. She sighed. Memories.

She passed, restless wanting to scream in frustration. Where was theat train? she wanted to know. Then just as she was about to head inside in search of food she heard it. That sound. It was another train.

She prayed, deared not to hope. It was coming from the right direction. It stopped with a scream of beraks. The doors opened all at once. And from the door nearest her stepped Eric.

His hair was longer, he had the shadow of a few days growth on his jaw but it was the eyes she looked to. Clear, bright but with the shadow of knowlgege no one should bear, they were exactly as she remembered them.

She knew the moment he saw her in return though the crowd. The crowd that didn’t exist. His eyes lit up, the shadows retrerated and his old grin began to spread across his face.

And then it was as if there were wings on her feet. She flew across the platform, eyes trained on his, case he vanished from sight. He knew what was coming and didn’t bother to move. He just lay down his bags, placed his feet at shoulder width and braced. Across the last few feet she leapt, her arms wrapping around his neck, her face in his hair. It was a good thing he’d braced or they’d both have been lying on the tracks. His arms held her up around her waist and a hand holding the back of her neck.

“oh, Lizzy how I missed you!” he murmered into her shoulder.

“I missed you too, Eric. Don’t you ever go away again. You hear me? Never!” she squeazed until he almost fought for breath. His fears extinguished, he realised how foolish he’d been in fearing seeing her again. She was still the same woman he’s waved goodbye to a year ago, still the same passion. But, was he still the same man? So much had happened to him. What if he was a stranger to her?

He breathed in her ever present perfume, lavender baby-powder and citrus body wash. And something he couldn’t describe but was his Lizzy.

But how was he going to tell her?

She was still locked around him with no sign of ever loosening her grop.

“Lizzy, if youre going to stay there, do you think you could grab my bags? My hands are full.” He squeezed her for emphasis. He was teasing of course but he wasn’t expecting ‘That’ glint to flash in her eyes.

“Ok.” She replied, stretching a leg out and catching first one then the other bag around her ankle. “Got them.” She hadn’t even let go of him, using her long powerful legs to hold the bags.

“I guess I was asking for that.” Eric chuckled. Shifting his arms under her hips he moved her slightly father up his body and began to walk.

Lizzy loved it when he carried her. She was tall for a woman and had the weight that went with it but he carried her as if she were a dainty ballerina instead of the sturdy horse trainer she was.

There was something different about Eric though. Something new. ‘Who cares?’ she thought. He ewas back that’s all that mattered. ‘But,’ she thought ‘how will I tell him?’

“same car as before?” he asked breaking her line of thought.

“Yes, the same.” She settled her head on his shoulder.

It was in silence they reached her purple classic mini. The interior was the same colour with threads of electric blue going through it. It had been a gift from her father, the only thing he’d gotten right being he’d left her and the family. Not that she cared. The occasional card was enough contact in her mind.

“Down you go.” Eric said. She whipped down the bags before sliding herself down.

She unlocked the car, out the bags in and climbed in, mindful of the skirt of her dress. As Eric fastened his seatbelt, he saw her high heals fly over her shoulder. She would walk in stilettos not a problem, but drive? Bad idea. And anyways ‘if memory severed correct, she hated shoes’ he thought to himself with a slight smile.

“So, do you want to go straight home, or to the beach first?” she asked taking up ten to two position on the wheel.

“Could we go to the beach later?”

“Sure, home now then?”

“Yeah, please. I miss that old place.”

Lizzy mearly smiled and started along the wide country roads. It wasn’t long until she pulled onto a road that was just two lines of packed dirt through the trees getting deeper into the forest. Then suddenly a smell clearing opened up showing a small two story cottage covered in rust-red ivy and sweet-pea. It was a dainty place and it was home. Flowers in unorganised beds were under every window frame.

“God, it hadn’t changed.” Eric breathed

“No, it hasn’t.” Lizzy took his bags out.

“Here, give me those.” Eric said taking them.

“Ok,” lizzy took the large key from around her neck and opened the door.

“Well you know where the spare room is. I’ll let you settle in and I’ll start some dinner.” Lizzy said wandering past the spiral staircase and into the country kitchen.

“Mind if I clean up?” Eric asked, starting up the stairs.

“Not at all. Waters hot,” came the voise over the din of pots being banged.

“Thanks!”

Nearly and hour later they were sitting side bu side at the breakfast bar eating a simple meal of potatoes, bacon and corn with a parsly white sauce. It was a mutual favourite. They ate in silence, cleaned up and moved to the sitting room. They sat with their feet tucked up and spoke of the past. Half an hour before sunset Lizzy remembered the beach.

“Want to ride out and watch the sunset at the beach?” she asked

“Ride? You keep horses here now?”

“Yes, two. They’re faster on the trail than the car and it’s handy to get to work that way.”

“Ok. Do you need to change.”  
“Eric Maeiven the day I cannot ride a house in a dress is the day I stop training them. Come on.” The swoshed out.

How she was going to get astride a horse in a full length gown, Eric didn’t know.

But then he saw how once they got to the stable around back.

“Westeren saddles!” he said in delight.

“They’re much more comfortable.” Said lizzy as she tacked up her black mare, “That filly there is for you.” She pointed to the soft grey.

“Thanks,” he tacked up himself, remembering easily even after the time since his last ride. As he looked over to her, he saw the cleverly concealed zip in the front on her gown. She was drawing it upwards to allow for the saddle. And up she leapt not need so much as a step even with the dress.

“Let’s go.” She said with a wicked gleam in her eyes.             

He followed her example and got astride the filly. “I know that look. Race ya!” she was out before he’d finished the sentence, her laughter the best sound in the world. The race forgotten, he watched her fly. He followed, a sad smile on his face. Watching the mare gallop through the trees, her riders gown flowing like a cloud around them, he knew he would tell her tonight. And then, god help him.

At their fast pace they reached the beach in minutes. Sunset had just begun. They dismounted and tied the horses quickly and sat on the sand.

Slowly, just as slowly as that great ball of orange sank, Eric and Lizzy’s hands reached for each others hands. They both jumped when they touched, laughed and clasped hands. They held ands as the sun set the sky on fire.

“Lizzy, I have to…”

“Eric there’s something…”

They spoke in unison. Laughing Lizzy said, “You go first.”

“No, you.” He was shy now. A first

“Eric…” she paused

“Alright I’ll go. Lizzy you know you are the best friend I have.” He said iin a rush.

“Yes…” she lilted her voice at the end, worried now.

“Well, you mean more to me than anything in the world.”

She began to hope, holding her breath as the sun dipped lower.

“What I want to tell you is…”

“Yes?”

“Lizzy, I love you.” He closed his eyes, not daring to let her see the fear there.

“Eric,” she cupped his cheek. When he opened his eyes again she continued “Thank heavens you said it first, I love you too. I always have.” She told him.

Throwing his arms around her he squeezed tight, and she held on just as tightly. Finally, she knew, and she returned the sentiment.

Sitting there, her head on his shoulder, they watched the sunset and knew this may be the end of their reunion as friends but it was the beginning of something wonderful.

Together.

 

_The end…_

 

 


	2. a murder mystery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Twice a month I will publish a new short story to this collection. They will range from fantasy to mystery and alot of romance in between.  
> If you enjoy my work please follow me on Twitter or tumbler for more frequent updates on progress.  
> Twitter: @Wicked_Willow_  
> Tumblr: thatmadwomaninthelibrary  
> Enjoy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second installment to my series of short stories.  
> A woman seeks out an old friend after the dead of her sister in hopes of finding her killer

A Murder Mystery.

The room was dark, the plaster on the walls was pealing. No one knew of this place. No one would ever find it. A gun, that is all she can see. Bound with course rope that was rubbing on her raw wrists and causing them to bleed. The cold seeping through to her very bones, she lay as still as death on the hard concrete floor. “Why?” she whimpered. The pain making her voice weak, when she was so very angry, “Why are you doing this?”  
“Because I want to.” The gun was fired into her face, a sharp pain, the sound of musical laughter, the nothing but the darkness that held no pain.  
∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞  
He had been sitting behind his desk all morning, doing up the paper work for his latest insurance policy case. The office was fairly big for a private investigator, with its large wooded desk, and the two big comfortable office chairs one on either side of the desk. The walls were that off white colour of every other office in the building but what made it different were the photographs that hung on the walls. Pictures from better times, like college and secondary school. The papers were the same old thing, and had been for the last three years. He sat there contemplating, as he always did when the paper work came around, about changing careers. As he was debating between going into real estate or computer games, a woman came and knocked on his office door. Through the frosted glass, all he could see was a vague outline. “Wait a minute, Jenna.” He yelled thinking it was the sectary going to give him hell again.  
The door opened. “I said wait a mi…” then he caught sight of the woman in his door way. She was wearing black jeans with a red t-shirt. Over it she had a black leather trench coat that whooshed around her ankles as she moved, showing just how tall she was even without the biker-style boots. “Oh gosh I’m sorry I thought you were...”  
She cut him off; “Your sectary. I know her name. She wouldn’t make me an appointment so I came in person.” She then took off her polar sunglasses and looked him straight in the eye.  
“Son of a Gun, Michelle Moloney!” He stood up from behind the desk and launched himself over it. “Give me a hug, girl.” Grabbing her in a bear hug he picked her up and swung her, laughing in a circle as she laughed. “Put me down, you monkey!” It was the first time she had smiled in two weeks.  
“It’s good to see you Demha. How long has it been?” she gave him a look over. He’d filled out since she’d last seen him.  
“Seven years. Ever since I got that job in America. How’d you know it was me running this place?! I heard you went down under with Lexy and that other girl, Rebecca.”  
“We did. Just got back three weeks ago. I’ve been leaving messages with your sectary ever since they told me you weren’t in the apple anymore.”  
“I’ll fire her today. She never gives me “personal messages”, says it’s unprofessional!” He grimaced “Why didn’t you just show up sooner?”  
“I have some bad news Demha. You might want to sit down.” As soon as he sat down on his desk, she took up position beside him like they used to do in secondary school and college. “Demha, Lexy died two weeks ago.”  
The look of shock and horror on his face was clear this wasn’t what he had expected. “What? How? Was she ill? Was it an accident? God damnit, tell me!” he was already starting to cry.  
“No it wasn’t an accident. She was murdered.”  
“WHAT?” he shouted though the tears as if he hadn’t even noticed they were flowing. Michelle couldn’t help the few tears that began to trickle down her cheek.  
“They found her body in my bedroom two days after she went missing. There was this note attached to her.” Out of her pocket she dug a photocopied piece of paper.  
A gift  
He looked at it and the blood in his veins turned to ice. “Michelle, I’ve seen this handwriting before.”  
“I know.” she closed her eyes. “The police wouldn’t let me see any of the evidence until last night. This was all they would let me keep. I can’t even see her!” Her shoulders started to shake the tears coming faster now.  
He wrapped his arms around her. “Michelle, she was your sister. You have legal rights to her remains.” He thought about it for a minute. “At least to see them.”  
“They don’t accept that we’re sisters. It’s not on either of our birth certificates.” Demha was the only one who knew the secret about the two girls. No one knew why they had been separated or why their birth certs were forged, they only knew that they were twin sisters.  
“I’ve still got some of the old threat letters. Do you want to bring them to the cops?” he asked changing the direction of the conversation.  
“No. You’re the best private investigator in Europe! I want you to help me to prove who did this. The police won’t listen.”  
“Do you know who did it?”  
“No, maybe I don’t know.”  
“Ok.” He stood up and grabbed his coat. “Let’s go.”  
“Just like old times.” She said with a sad smile.  
He gave her a watery smile in return.  
They went to the police station, but were told that as it was an on-going investigation, that they couldn’t allow sensitive information to be in civilian hands. They argued for hours until finally Demha said to just leave it. They’d do their own investigating. They were advised to stay out of it. They should have known better.  
The next morning, Michelle came into Demha’s office with a large briefcase.  
“Ok. Here’s everything I could get. Knock yourself out.” She said dumping everything on his desk  
“How?” Demha asked when he saw the pile of papers inside the case.  
“Don’t ask, just get to work.”  
The next few hours passed in a similar pattern. Michelle and Demha read through the police reports’, scrapping the one’s that hadn’t included any witness statements. It was astonishing just how many officers had filed the incorrect reports with no evidence or statements included!  
Demha was shocked. “Michelle, it looks almost like the cops are covering for someone.”  
“I think they are. Any cop who wrote what I said into their report, has been taken off the case. The only suspect they brought in was me. There must be others!” Michelle was glad that she wasn’t the only one who saw things that way. If Demha hadn’t seen it, she would have started to listen to the police’s advice and stayed out of it.  
“Michelle, do you think we should tell the police about the old threat letters? If the killer is the same person who sent me those letters, then maybe they should know.” he sounded a bit doubtful about what he was saying.  
“No Demha. They’ll just bury it like they have done with this.” She said holding up the reports.  
“How did you get this stuff?” asked Demha.  
“Well, I may have used those old tricks you and the lads taught me back at school to get into a filing cabinet in someone’s office.” She felt the deep red of a blush creeping up her cheeks.  
“Michelle, by any chance did you break into the homicide captain’s office last night while ‘those police’ were interviewing people to do with a case, and jimmy the lock with the Swiss army knife I got you one year?”  
“I plead the fifth on that one.”  
“Michelle…”  
“Ok yeah fine but they wouldn’t let me in to see her for God’s sake! What was I supposed to do?”  
“Request another officer to be put on the case?” he looked at his oldest friend hard. “You covered your tracks, right.”  
“Of course. All those years of us playing investigator taught me that.”  
“I was practicing. You were helping and I just realised that’s how we taught you how to jimmy a lock.”  
“Well yeah, but for a ‘secure location’ it was surprisingly easy to get open. My own filing cabinet at home is tougher to crack.”  
They spent the next two days going over everything until on the third day Rebecca came over. They thought she was going to help.  
“You should just leave it to the police, Michelle.” Were the first words out of her mouth.  
“You don’t know what the police are up to any better than me. Lexy was your friend you should care about what happened to her.”  
“Why should I she was nothing but a whiny brat.”  
“How can you say that? She was your friend.”  
“No she was just someone between you and me.” She looked Michelle dead in the eye. “We’re sisters.”  
“You wouldn’t know sisterhood if it slapped you in the face,” she got up from her seat and was about to go for Rebecca, probably to knock her around when she felt Demha’s arms rap around her, pining her arms down as he did.  
“No Michelle, she’s not worth it. Lexy wouldn’t want this.” She turned around and looked at him. Years of friendship and always being there for each other, was said in a single look and she knew that if she was gonna hit Becca then, while he didn’t agree with violence, he would still stand by her, no matter what.  
She sighed “You’re right.” The tension in her shoulders left with those words. Turning back on Becca she said, “Get out of here. And stay out of our way in this. And never say a bad word about Lexy to me again.”  
“What, you can’t make me leave! We’re supposed to hang out.” Rebecca was completely confused.  
“Not any more. Go, please.” Michelle tuned into Demha’s arms and tucked her face into his shoulder. When she heard the door slam she stepped back.  
“I just don’t know how she could say those things.” Demha was looking at the door as if Rebecca was still there. “What is it? What’s wrong?”  
“Michelle do you have a piece of Rebecca’s hand writing?”  
“Um maybe at home. Why?”  
“Let’s just go get it first. I’ll tell you later.” He grabbed a box from his desk drawer. Picking up the note, left on Lexy he stood up. “Let’s go.”  
When they got to Michelle’s house, she headed straight to the affectionately named ‘what’s it’ drawer. She dug around in it for a while before yelling; “Got it!” she handed over an old note pad.  
“What is this?” asked Demha.  
“Old shopping lists. We were living together for so long we got used to it. Rebecca’s handwriting is all over it.” And so it was. Nearly everything in it was written by her.  
Demha had to sit down. “I can’t believe I didn’t see it.” He was completely sickened.  
“What? What is it?” Michelle sat down on the couch beside him. He held up the note book, the note from Lexy and one of the old threat notes. “Oh my stars.” Michelle exclaimed softly.  
“It was her this whole time, Rebecca.” Demha felt he had to say it aloud to make it real.  
Then a voice came from behind them “Well, well, well, you finally figured it out!” They turned to see Rebecca herself standing behind them with a tranquiliser gun. “Too bad.” And she fired a shot into each of them. Blackness took them over.  
∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞  
They woke to find that she had them tied to chairs. Rebecca pointed a gun, a .25mm pistol, if Michelle was correct, and Rebecca said to her, “This is the only way you’ll see; I’m all you will ever have, all you will ever need.”  
Michelle replied “You’re right, just let me go. Just untie me and I’ll kill Demha. He means nothing to me. You’ve always been there for me. Please, Becca, let me do this for you.” Becca lets her go and hands her the gun. Michelle turns on her “You stupid b***h!!! Did you really think that I’d still let you kill him after what you did to Lexy?!”  
“What did Alexia ever mean to you?” asked Becca laughing  
“She was my goddamn sister! You are so blind to everything but yourself that you can’t see anything else! She was family.”  
“What? You’re just lying to save him but it won’t work.” Becca pulls out her back up pistol. Michelle had forgotten about that. Rebecca always had two at the range. Rebecca points it at Demha.  
“No!” screams Michelle. She fired first. Time stopped moving. With the report of the first gunshot Rebecca fires. The first bullet goes thought Rebecca’s shoulder, toughing her off aim while she pulls the trigger, causing the bullet to just miss Demha’s head. Michelle fires again with dead on accuracy hitting Becca in the right leg. She didn’t want to kill her old friend but beyond that she’d do anything to protect her friend. She couldn’t protect Lexy anymore, but she could protect Demha. Becca went down with a light bump, her tiny frame causing little noise. Michelle raced over kicked her gun away and kneeled beside her. “You don’t get the damn privilege to die! You get to tell your precious daddy what you did.” And she started to make a pressure bandage from her belt for Rebecca’s leg.  
When the police came Rebecca’s father was among them. “What have you done child?” he demanded not expecting an answer. He got one.  
“You taught me to be true to myself and to always fight for what I wanted.” said Rebecca from the ground, Michelle still holding pressure to her leg wound. “You should be proud of me daddy.”  
“You are not my daughter.” He said with ice in his gaze as he turned and left. “Take her away.” He said to the uniforms behind him. They waved the paramedics in.  
“Daddy?” Becca looked after him in confusion. She genially thought he would be proud of her for what she’d done. “Daddy! Get off of me!” she was screaming now and Michelle felt the first piece of pitty pierce her heart. “DADDY!” even as they carried her away she screeched after him.  
Demha walked over to Michelle. “Are you gonna be ok?” he asked worriedly.  
“Now I will be.” She turned towards him. “Sorry you had to go through all this.”  
“Hey, isn’t getting kidnaped, shot at and terrified what best friends are for?”  
“Well, next time it’s my turn to be shot at.”  
“Let’s take a rain check shall we?”  
“Sure.” She took him by the hand “Now how about we go tell the nice friendly cops what happened?”  
“Ok.” They stood together and watched the woman who murdered their Lexy be escorted to the hospital by the police and finally they could grieve.


	3. A Demon Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A young woman who refuses to follow the rules of her church finds the man of her dreams. But is he a man?

It was in this small town run by religion that looked like an Amish town with small houses, the only largish building being the school and the church.  
The large dark wood on one side of the road was my haven but it was feared by the townsfolk. It was beautiful, peaceful, with only the sound of the trickling river with its waterfall and the animals that call this place home.  
I looked out my window. Another bleak, grey day in this bleak and boring town. I heard my parents getting up. Time to get ready to go out.  
I put on my black dress and cloak, my Victorian style boots already on. It was all deliberate. I would not conform to the norm. Well the normal in this town. This house. My parents, nearly everyone in this town were so religious as to make you gag. It was fronded upon not to attend Sunday service. So every Sunday I went to the woods and walked along the river during service. They already hated me. I had the freedom of being an outcast. I had been born with what they called Demon Eyes. Purple eyes had never been seen in our quaint, highly religious town before and anything new or different was considered demonic. It was a touch of the freedom I craved. They didn’t want me around and I was happy to oblige.  
This Sunday seemed just like any other. The townsfolk were in their best cloths for church and stared at me when they saw me. I always walked the same rout every week. Straight through town past everyone. The rumours would be worse if I snuck around. I’m not ashamed of my difference. It was just the way I was.  
The whispers I could hear spelled out nothing new. “Witch”. “Demon Child”. The funniest I found was “Devil’s Bride”. As if the devil had any interest in a girl like me. I let the whispers fade from my mind but not before my ever present hope, please let me go. There was no way out of this town. It was like an island except we were surrounded by trees and rocks instead of water.  
I walked into the wood and followed my own trail to the river. I walked my solitary walk and wished my most foolish wish. I knew it was impossible. Childish.  
I went to my hidden place. There was a large cavern behind the water fall. I loved sitting there, listening. They, the townsfolk, thought I was worshiping the devil out here. But I would worship no one.  
For the first time since I had begun coming to this place I heard footsteps that were not my own.  
“Who’s there?” I called out.  
“You heard me, huh?” a young man steeped into the cavern.   
“Loud and clear” I looked at him hard. “Who are you?”  
“Well let’s say, I’m a friend.” he stepped closer “You need a friend, don’t you Kit?”   
“How do you know my name? I don’t know you.” But his voice were familiar in a way.  
“Oh but you do.” He stepped closer. “In your dreams you walk hand in hand with a boy who knows you very well.” His eyes twinkled with mischief.  
“How do you know about my dreams? I’ve never told anyone about those.” I began to panic. “Who are you?” I reiterated.   
“Don’t you remember? I’m Damien.” And then he smiled.   
Fear built inside me. “Is that your name or that what you are?”  
“Both Violet.” His eyes flashed and I finally saw their true colours. One black and one purple. It was true.  
“No!” but I desperately wanted to be wrong. “You can’t be! How do you know that nick-name? How?”  
“We’ve known each other for years Violet. We’ve dreamt of each other since childhood. I know you Kit, I know your heart and soul. You come here to be alone so you can write your music and stop having to hear them say its evil when it’s only how you feel. I know you. And you know me.” He tried to take my hand but fear made me recoil.  
“No! Tell me plainly, who are you? No more games. I want to know.” I yelled it at him.  
“I’m the Devils son.”  
I ran. The Amish girl they had tried so hard to beat into me took over and I fled.   
“You can’t hide from me. You don’t really want to. You’ll come back and I’ll be waiting.” I could hear his voice even though I was running as fast as I could, the sharp branches that just before had seemed like the gateway to my haven, now whipped my limbs and grabbed at my long black hair.  
I was soaked through. I must have gone straight through the waterfall. I didn’t remember. The weight of the suddenly freezing water pulled the graceful waves out of my hair. His voice pierced my minds again. “You will return.” It was crystal clear despite the distance and, danm me, he spoke the truth and I knew it.  
I reviled nothing when I got back to the village. Damien was right. I was going back.  
The next morning I went into the forest before anyone else was up. I couldn’t risk being stopped. I had to see him. He hadn’t been in my dreams for the first time in months last night. He was my dream boy. Literally. I couldn’t lose him.  
As I crept through the wood it seemed unnaturally quite. All I could hear was the river. I followed my usual path and went behind the waterfall.  
“You came.” Was all he said.  
“You knew I would.” I stood in front of him and took him in. his mismatched eyes stared back at me, while I drank in his pitch black hair and gothic cloths. He looked just as he had in my dreams. Too much.  
“You need to make sure I’m real huh?” he read.  
“May I touch you?” I was ever so afraid he’d vanish.  
“You don’t have to ask.” He held out his hand.  
I put my hand in his. I gave a sigh of relief when my hand meet solid flesh. He was real.  
“Why have I been dreaming of you?”  
“I could ask you the same thing.”  
I meet his eyes. He was telling the truth. I could just, just tell.  
“Why have you come for me?” I needed to hear it from him.  
“I think you know the answer to that.” He used the hand still in his to draw me in. I put my other hand on his shoulder. “I’ve told you every night for years. I love you.”  
I couldn’t understand why I had run from him just the previous day. I knew he truly wouldn’t hurt me. I decided it was time to let my secret out. “I think I love you too.”  
“I know you have reservations about what I am but I will prove it to you. I am not evil. Let me prove it to you.”  
“All right but I don’t think it’d matter to me.” I confessed.  
“It matters to me what you think. Let me show you what I see.” He pulled me towards the exit of the cavern.   
“Ok.” I followed him out.  
He showed me such wonders: a doe giving birth. He showed me how to approach with care and the new mother allowed us to sit with her and her baby while the baby figured out how to walk. My eyes welled with joy.  
A single pair of love birds singing a song to each other made my heart swell.   
A lone rabbit scavenging for food. Damian showed me the most beautiful thing in the forest.  
An hour before sunset he escorted me to the woods edge. “Until tomorrow, my love” he said laying a kiss on the back of my hand.  
“Tomorrow.” I said before rushing back to my house. I spoke to no one and just snuck some food up to my room and went to bed.  
I did return the next day and every day after. He showed me new wonders of the wood every day. It was the most amazing time of my life. Yet I knew it could not continue as such.  
It had been weeks since we had first begun meeting in the woods when I asked for something I had yet to see.  
“Will you show me your true form? I want to see the real you.” I was ready, I wasn’t going to run.  
“Are you sure?” he looked deep into my eyes.  
“I am.” He saw the truth in my eyes.  
“Ok.” Damien stepped back, letting go of my hand. The light shimmered around him and he seemed to be swallowed by the flash of pure darkness that he emitted at the end of his transformation. At the end of it all when my eyes could focus on him, a huge black, blood red and dark purple demon stood before me. He was fearsome with shiny black horns coming out of his head and a long red tail. Not tipped with an arrow though, just smooth skin.   
I stepped up to him. He tried to shrink back. I put my hand on his jaw and stroked his hair. Looking into his eyes I said “I know it’s you, Damien. I’m not afraid.”   
His eyes were the same in both forms. He gave a sigh of relief and grabbed me in a huge hug. “Thank you, thank you.” His voice was deep and gravelly. I liked it.  
My head on his chest, listening to the steady beating of his heart and his arms around me his face pressed into my hair, I closed my eyes. This was peace. We stayed like that, Damien still in his demonic form, just holding each other. I sighed with contentment and opened my eyes.  
My peace shattered.  
Hiding behind a tree staring with wide frightened eyes was a child from the town. One of their spies no doubt, sent to see if I was a devil worshiper, and here I was embracing a demon. The Devils own son no less.  
“Shit!” I exclaimed breaking away. The child darted away. “I have to stop this!” I looked at Damien.  
“Go.” He said  
I went running as fast as I could. I knew what would happen if I didn’t get back to town before the child. If I was back in town before, I would be safe. If not… I refused to think it. I would not fail.  
I broke through the tree line. I couldn’t see anyone. It looked like I’d made it. I began to walk through the town as clam as you please when, as I passed the church its doors burst open to reveal the child and the townspeople.  
“There she is Papa. That’s the demon lover.” Oh no it was the pastures child.  
The pasture was red with fury. “Witch!” he spat. “Get her.” He told his followers.  
I ran. I hope to reach the forest before they caught me but they’d guessed what I’d do. They grabbed hold of my arms and pushed me to my knees.  
“I knew you were no good.” He said “Take her to the church jail. We must confer on what to do to deal with this witch.”  
While I kneeled there, many of them cried out suggestions for my execution. “Hang her!”, “Drown her!”, “Burn her!” staying as still as possible I hoped Damien would realise what had happened. But the pasture wasn’t finished.  
“Filthy witch. Worship the Devil huh?” I’ll show you a thing or two about worship.” With that I felt a blinding pain in the back of my head and everything went black.  
When I came to, I was lying on my side on the smooth pavements of the church jail. I could feel the heavy weights of the chains around my ankles, thankfully still protected by my boots. My head felt woolly and ached when I tried to lift it.  
“Ow.” I moaned as I sat up  
“Careful my love,” strong arms came around me that I knew all too well. Damien was in his human form.  
“What are you doing here?” I looked at him and then at the ground he was sitting on. “Wait. How are you here? This is hallow ground.”  
“Blessed by a man who’s faith is not pure. Only a person of purest faith who has not sinned could cast a spell powerful enough to keep me out.” He laid his hand on my cheek. “They have made a decision on your fate.” He told me  
“Burning?” I guessed. That old pasture would just love to hear me scream.  
“Yes.” Damien said “But I can save you.”   
“I know. You can break these chains and we can leave, just go to your home. Take me with you.”  
“I will. But first,” he smiled wickedly, “Let’s have a little fun?”  
I should have guessed, he was the Devil’s son after all. “What did you have in mind?” I asked  
“Will you allow me to rescue you from the flames themselves if I cast a spell over you to protect you from them?”  
“Of course. But why?”  
“I will appear in the form of a raven, when you see me you can cry out that the devil will save you and I’ll transform into my true form while you walk to me on a path of flames and we shall escape to hell, together, while they will know to never touch a Demon lover again.”  
An evil smile quirked my lips. “Ok then.”  
So that night when they came for me for the burning, I was sitting cross legged, smiling prettily.  
“How pleasant to see you on this dark night, Pasture.” I greeted him.  
“Witch” he spat at me, but missed. Ew. “You’ll not speak unless spoken to, is that clear?”  
“And here I thought we knew each other? Don’t you realise, I don’t obey you.”  
“Take her to the stake.” Was his response. Two men released my chains and grabbed my arms lifting me.   
“Thank you, kind sirs.” I said needling them. One of them striked me across the face. I felt the softest of feathers brushing along my cheek. Damien’s spell was working. I smiled.  
“Sir, she feels no pain.” One of the men said.  
“She’ll feel god’s flame soon enough don’t you fear. Bring her.”  
They hauled me up a large pile of wood surrounding a thick stake in the middle of the courtyard just inside the church grounds. The tied me to it, binding my hands behind me with coarse rope.  
I saw the raven land on a tree branch just outside the gate. My smile grew, stirring the crowd.  
“Any last words, Witch?” asked the preacher as he held the flam that would supposedly burn me alive.  
And I incanted my spell, “Et maledecam maledecentibus tibi atque in sanguine tuo. My daemonium salcabit me. Sic deus est genus?” I curs thee and thin blood. My demon will save me. Is your god so kind? There was no true power behind the words just the words themselves but it had the desired effect. Screams erupted and panic ensued. The preacher hastily dropped the burning stick onto my pyre. Flames burst violently to life around me and a comforting warmth enveloped me. They must have used some petrol.   
Behind the panicked gazing crowd the crow also burst into flames and I laughed.   
“See?” I cried. “He comes for me.” I jerked my chin towards the demon Damien. Many screamed some fainted, the pasture grabbed his child’s hand.   
“You’ll not enter here! This is holy land!” he yelled  
“I don’t need to.” Damien growled  
With that my ropes burned away and I was free. I stepped forward and walked across the flames to him. Taking his hand in mine I turned to the townsfolk. “This is true power. Fear us.” My hair swam around my face appearing alive.  
Many people dropped to their knees, others ran into the church. Damien and I laughed at our game turned away from the place that had brought me only pain and walked into the woods. Free. Together. And soon, home at last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone. this chapter i post will be the last one. i will continue posting to my tumblr page but since these are not fanfictions I want to be able to post certain links to donations so that i can do commision writing for my followers. 
> 
> find me on my tumblr for any updates
> 
> https://www.tumblr.com/blog/willowzel
> 
> thank you all for your support.


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